Encoding My Love

I am one of those terrible mothers who feed their children white bread on a regular basis. We also have dessert every night, and there's almost always a bowl of candy somewhere within arm's reach. Sugar cereal? You name it: Fruity Pebbles, Cocoa Puffs, Apple Jacks, Cookie Crisp, need I go on? Now I know that part of a mother's job is to make sure her children are fed a diet rich in nutrients and overflowing with life-extending whole grains, which is why I must lay the blame for my dietary shortcomings at the feet of my own mother.

When I was a child, we were frequently allowed to select breakfast items such as: cake (yes, with frosting), waffles with ice cream, leftover pie, or cookies. In fact, once, when my mother saw me eating Oreos first thing in the morning, her response was: "Oreos for breakfast?! When there are homemade cookies?" It was a happy childhood.

While I am blaming her, I am also thanking her. I knew she loved me. I knew it because she told me, and because she made sacrifices for me, but I also knew it because, in addition to giving me the nutrition I needed for growth, she gave me a healthy dose of sweet things. So, one day when I am gone, my children will look back on their childhood and think I must have loved them very much if I was willing to put up with all kinds of criticsm from other mothers and still give them sweet things to eat. I have received plenty of condescending looks and remarks on the importance of feeding children a well-balanced diet. So let me just say, if you could watch my children eat their vegetables, you would probably swallow that judgmental comment on the tip of your tongue. Again, you name it: they eat green beans, carrots, asparagus (no, really), salad, zucchini, and more. But they also get their sugar. All things in moderation, right? Even wheat.

I have to stop writing now so I can go monitor how much whipped cream my kids are putting on their chocolate-chip pancakes. I really do love them.